


Do Right By You

by MaybeMayura



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Drabble drabble, Gabriel Agreste - Freeform, Nathalie Sancoeur - Freeform, Short Story, adrien agreste - Freeform, babble babble, mama!nathalie, what if, writing prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:13:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28850382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaybeMayura/pseuds/MaybeMayura
Summary: Due to how much I loved this prompt, have a short exploration into how I imagine that moment...and everything after...Prompt (by Sunshinemonster07): "Nathalie didn’t actually agree to be Mayura because she loved Gabriel. In fact, she completely despised the idea. But when she found out his reasons, to bring back Emilie, she knew she had too. Not for Gabriel, or for Emilie herself, but for Adrien. She saw that boy as her son, and would do anything for him. If his mother came back, he would finally have the inviting home she knew he needed.But when she saw Chat Noir transform into Adrien, she knew she had messed up. Badly."
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Nathalie Sancoeur
Comments: 13
Kudos: 53
Collections: GabeNath Book Club and Art Club Server





	Do Right By You

It happens in a blink.

One moment, she’s standing in the back garden. Then comes the shout of _“Claws out!”_ and a black blur arcs over her head from Adrien’s window to the boundary wall and disappears into the afternoon sky. 

It’s a visceral reaction. Feelings hit in quick succession; shock, denial, despair. When it’s over, the only thing left is a leaden feeling of guilt, sandbags of it, tied to her arms and her knees and her waist. She sinks to her knees under the weight of them. How could she have been so blind? She stares at the blank marble face of the Madame Agreste and tries to think of what to do. 

She’s never loved anyone. Not Gabriel; not Emilie. What she did for them was a repayment of a debt that spiraled out of her control. But Adrien is kind and sweet and nothing like his father, and she suffers seeing his sadness, not being able to reciprocate affection lest Gabriel notice and fire her for toeing the line too close. For trying to replace Emilie, even if she never meant to. 

But there have been times when Gabriel is away on business trips, or locks himself in his atelier for days on end that she has allowed herself more freedom. She and Adrien would sit at the long empty dining table while she taught him chess. She remembers staying up long into the evenings to help him study until his eyes turned sleepy and his head drooped, and she had to resist the urge to kiss his forehead goodnight. 

Then there was a time shortly after Emilie died where he had cried into her shoulder as they knelt on his bed, asking why, why did this happen to us, where did she go? She had sat there, stiff and burning with anger at Gabriel’s inability to show his son anything more than the most threadbare actions of parental affection.

She’s never loved anyone….except Adrien.

The anger comes rushing back at the memory, at Gabriel’s repeated insistence that he knows best for his son. Clearly, he does not, if his son has become one of his fiercest adversaries. She cannot stay in this house. Keeping this secret within the walls will tear her apart with nerves, because he will find out eventually. He always does, with that miraculous.

The statue’s eyes are still watching her. She has decided. She will take Adrien, and they will run. 

* * *

Days pass. They have fled the country into the Swiss Alps. They don’t know what to do with each other, and haven’t spoken about anything save practical matters since Nathalie had pulled Chat Noir into an alley in the heat of the akuma battle, in civilian clothes with miraculous in hand, and begged him to come with her. There is much distrust, as they cannot help but remember how recently they had met in battle on opposite sides. 

The beginning of reconciliation finds Nathalie sitting in a wicker chair on the back porch of their rented cabin, a morning cup of tea in hand. The highlands are beautiful this time of year. She hears the screen door open and the pad of soft feet on the worn boards, but she doesn’t turn, doesn’t speak, waits for Adrien to make the first move.

“I have to go back.”

“You don’t, really.” 

“I do. I left Ladybug alone. I don’t know what is going to happen to her, or if it’s already too late. My... “ he swallows, “My father doesn’t hold back.” 

Nathalie wants to respond, to tell him he does not have to carry the weight of the world. He is so young. Part of her wants to keep him, to stay in this peaceful bubble because she can’t imagine subjecting herself to a miraculous again. 

Her breath sticks in her throat and she begins to cough. The tea sloshes from her cup and she doubles over as her lungs attempt to exit her body. Any attempt to suppress the spasms makes them worse. Adrien’s eyebrows knit and one of his hands comes to rest on her shoulder. 

“Fine. I’m fine,” she sputters and wipes her mouth. She looks up into his face and sees the seeds of a realization in his eyes, and it hurts her, because she doesn’t want him to have to carry her problems, too. 

“What is happening to you?” 

She can’t form those words, not yet. She still has sandbags tied around her waist, weighing her down with guilt. She wishes there was a way to right the things she’s done against him.

“If you want to go back, I’ll fight beside you.” She will let the world burn if it meant he would be safe and happy. The world, and herself with it.

* * *

Weeks pass. They are still hiding, but within the city limits. They are vigilantes: her, Chat Noir, and Ladybug, making up an offensive force in this strange guerrilla war in Paris’ streets. They strike by night and in the day retreat to a tiny apartment to think, plan, and rest. 

They are tired, but closer to victory than ever, and closer to each other. She is surprised to learn of Ladybug’s identity, and is privy to new sides of Adrien she would never known before. In return, she has told him everything, about how his mother was too drunk with power to give up the broken miraculous until it danced her to death, and his father was too far under her hand and blindsided by her loss to move on. It feels good to talk, tearing holes in burlap and letting the sand spill out until she treads lightly on the earth again.

“But isn’t that what you’re doing? Using the miraculous even though it hurts you.” 

She smiles at him in her serious way he’s grown up with. “Perhaps, but we have a profound divergence in motivation. Mine has always been, and will always be you.”

* * *

Months pass. The three heroes--although Mayura hardly feels she’s worthy of that title, after all she has done--are nearing their goal of defeating Hawk Moth once and for all. He has gotten better at wielding his magic and his hunger for power has only grown like a parasite in the void left by his sanity. But they are more powerful, too. 

Her costume has changed along with her motivations. The tight-fit slitted skirt and gangly high heels are replaced with a sturdier coat and boots, and a mask that partly conceals her face. She’s no longer an accomplice, a pretty pawn made to stand in a lair and use her pretty powers. No, she fights tooth and nail, like a bird whose chicks have been threatened. Her feathers are barbed and her claws are sharp. She no longer suppresses who she cares about. When she looks in a mirror she sees the gritted teeth of a soldier in a war she didn’t want to fight. She is her own hero, now. 

They are more powerful, but she must hide her growing weakness. Each and every transformation takes a steeper toll. After battles she shuts herself in a room until the dizziness passes and she can escape Adrien’s worried eyes. They are so close. She cannot let the other two know how difficult it is to put one foot in front of the other, let alone fight the man who stands before her, his villainous armies rolling in a sea around their rooftop island.

“Mayura.” His eyes dance the frenzied jig of a madman. “I see we meet again.”

Her chin is held high even as her legs tremble from exhaustion. “I would have never wished it,” she replies icily. 

He takes a step towards her, fondling his cane. “I must confess I am curious. Whatever made you decide to leave the way you did?” 

A million things and more, she thinks, but one stands out. “When I realized I no longer saw you as Adrien’s father.” 

His eyes ignite like matches into full-fledged anger and he lunges for her. She has an opening; she slices at him with her fan, but months of fighting on a broken miraculous makes her too slow.

_Crack._ She flies backwards and she can’t muster the energy to stop herself as the sea of enemies rises up to meet her.

The ground hurts. She lays there, unable to feel her legs, the pain ricocheting through her body long after impact. Her tenuous bubble of consciousness rises from her forehead on a string. She dimly registers someone yelling and the clatter of two sets of running feet and she feels weightless, as if someone is carrying her. It is a familiar feeling, an action Gabriel had done several times when her transformations had left her too exhausted to stand. But instead of holding her at a cold, uneasy distance, these arms cradle her. 

“Don’t worry, Nathalie.” Chat Noir’s voice is quivering and his chest heaves. “I’ll find you a cure, if I have to go to the ends of the earth to do it.” 

She wants to respond, but the string severs and she’s gone. 

* * *

Years pass. Adrien is attending university. He has a strange interest in political science and world relations. She wonders if his time as a superhero has had anything to do with it. 

Hawk Moth is no more, and she doesn’t think about Gabriel Agreste. They have left the city, full as it was with painful memories, even though it makes it harder for her to get around on her own. 

But right now, she is content. She sits in her wheelchair, hands folded in her lap as she watches. 

There is grass under her feet, and the air is fresh with the scent of spring. The mountains form cathedral walls, the sky the vaulted ceiling. Marinette’s dress blows in the hilltop winds, the gauzy white skirts flowing like clouds. There are few people present, and she sits alone in the front row. She tunes out the officiant’s voice as he reads the vows so she can drink in this moment as wholly as she can. The highlands are beautiful this time of year, and she is at peace. 

Adrien looks over from where he stands under the archway, woven through with flowers. His eyes hold more happiness than she ever could have imagined for that child trapped in the empty mansion of the past, whose only means of freedom was a magical ring on his finger. Today it is a different ring, a different kind of journey he would be starting out on. She smiles back at him, and it is full and genuine. 

Nathalie’s lips move as she whispers, _I love you._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Here's the OG Tumblr post if you'd like to check it out :)  
> https://maybemayura.tumblr.com/post/640717109778923521/fanfiction-prompt


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